


CBGB

by ChillyHollow



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: Bands, CBGB, F/M, Manhattan, Music, Rock and Roll, Sex Drugs and Rock and Roll, music clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:02:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28338909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChillyHollow/pseuds/ChillyHollow
Summary: This is my Boxing Day treat for fans of the Robert Galbraith universe, a portrait of Leda Strike as more than a party girl.  The groupies who followed the bands in the 1970s thought they were fueling the music they loved.  In my head Leda was someone who dedicated her life to rock and roll and the bands that made the music she loved.  It wasn’t pretty and it was unfair to her children but she was true to what she believed in.  I don't like her, but I'll give her that.
Relationships: Leda Strike/Jonny Rokeby
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	CBGB

We started the party at the Warwick Hotel when we got to New York.The cab ride from Kennedy Airport to midtown Manhattan took nearly an hour, but the traffic was horrible.We were in a caravan of cabs.I rode with the guitarist Bobby Thompson and a couple of the roadies.We got stoned in the cab, riding with the windows down to let the smoke out so the cold, damp air came in as the cab slowly headed into the city.Bobby always had good shit, good enough I didn’t feel the cold.At the hotel we met the rest of the group in the conference room the hotel had set aside for rehearsals.There was food laid out for us and plenty of alcohol.The promoters must have arranged that.We ate and then everybody found their rooms and luggage. 

I was in a room with three other girls but of course none of us planned to actually sleep there.We all had our sights set on the band.We helped each other, though.Emily had already figured out what room numbers everyone was in and we loaned each other things to wear, figuring out the best outfits, helping each other with hair and makeup, stuff like that.I had set my sights on Jonny Rokeby, so I staked my claim to let the girls know and everyone swore they’d leave him alone until I bagged him.In return I gave up any claim to Bobby Thompson as I’d been sleeping with him off and on since Christmas.Fair was fair.We were soon ready and Yvonne went off to suss out where everyone had gone.It didn’t take her long to discover the band was already rehearsing.The Deadbeats concert was to be held at Carnegie Hall in two days’ time.It’s an old concert hall on a street corner on the West Side of Manhattan.It really looks like the sort of place where you go to hear opera, not a rock venue, but the Beatles played there and the promoters thought small was better for the band’s first American concert.Makes the tickets harder to get, see? 

We girls took the elevator down and they went into the big room to watch the rehearsal, but I had other plans.I went on down to the lobby and had a little talk with the concierge.That’s how I found out about a brand new club called CBGB.It was in a section of downtown Manhattan called the Bowery.The sweet old man at the front desk told me it was in a pretty rough part of town so “a nice girl like you” should take a cab.I thanked him and gave him my best smile, telling him that I was with the band and we’d go in a group so we’d all be safe.He told me about Delmonico’s, too. It’s a steakhouse.Armed with that information, I headed back upstairs, making sure I put a little extra sway into my hips as I walked away from my source, just as an extra thank you on top of the tip I gave him.

It wasn’t hard to talk the band into heading to a hot new club with a quick stop on the way for a steak.After all, weed makes you hungry and blunts were abundant at the hotel.Most of us girls kept a few tucked in our purses for emergency use and the band had a regular supplier that showed up daily during the tour.I made sure I always had a lighter, too. My black and gold Colibri got me a lot of action back in the day.No one can refuse a good-looking woman with a light.

Delmonico’s was rather stuffy with a lot of banker types but the food was good.Bebe took one cute guy into the men’s room and had a fast fuck in a stall.He gave her a wad of cash, which was sweet of him.She’d have done it for nothing.She spent it all later on drinks for everybody at CBGB’s.I tried Lobster Newburg, which the waiter said was invented at Delmonico’s.It was pretty good, although a little rich with cream and brandy in the sauce and caviar on top. I liked it but I’ve never had it again.It’s not a London dish.After a while we finished eating and everybody got into cabs to head back uptown to the club. 

It was a hole-in-the-wall place, with a funny cloth awning out front with CBGB printed on it.There were tiny stores on either side with metal gates pulled down over their doors and big glass windows.It was in a pretty rundown area but the rents were low.I ran into the owner of the club later and he told me that New York City was a pretty cheap place to live, even if it was tatty.Inside there was a bar and a few tables and a stage, with the bathroom in the cellar.It was small, the black walls were covered in graffiti, the energy was amazing.When we arrived there was a band called Magic Tramps on stage, and a rowdy crowd.No one knew who we were, of course, but then the Deadbeats didn’t get really big in America until the next month.It was more like a big party, that club, which was fabulous. 

I got two martinis from the bartender and gave one to Jonny.He liked whisky but gin was his favorite, same as me.We sipped our drinks and smoked and stood close, eying each other while listening to the music.It was fabulous.There was a girl with bleached blonde hair and smoky eyes standing nearby.She was listening to the band critically, bangs in her eyes.Jonny got the band together and when the group that was playing stepped off the stage, the Deadbeats pulled out their instruments that I’d made sure were in the cab with us and took over.The blonde and I stood shoulder to shoulder and listened. We both started moving to the beat unconsciously.When the Deadbeats took a break, she said, “Pretty good.English, huh?”

“Yeah, the Deadbeats,” I told her."London.They’ll be at Carnegie Hall in two nights.Are you with the band?” I asked her, gesturing at the band that had left the stage and stayed to hear Jonny and his mates.

“No, I am the band,” she told me.“Blondie.Up next.”And they were.The blonde had a breathy voice and great stage presence.She belted out the songs like she’d written them, which I learned later she had.The club started rocking with her, and the music and the liquor and the drugs flowed like water.I managed to get Jonny alone in one of the doorless bathroom stalls long enough for a blow job.We stayed there until 3 when the blonde asked if we wanted to go to another party.I told her I’d check with the band.Jonny was always up for a good time and it turned out the blonde was throwing one for some mates at her flat which was only a few streets away.We walked over, the blonde and her guitarist leading the way. 

The place was a dump but no one cared.Someone brought alcohol and someone else got pizzas and someone brought dope.We played all sorts of records I’d never heard before (Suicide, Ruby and the Rednecks, the Dead Boys, music like that) and danced.The Ramones were there, the first time I heard their music. It was a blast.The blonde had a new song that she sang for us.It was called “A Girl Should Know Better”and had a catchy beat and some great guitar riffs. She sang it in a way that told everyone she knew exactly what she was doing. We all applauded her. She got Jonny to sing some of his new stuff for the party.He loved it, singing for the Americans.I thought I’d lost him to the blonde but it turned out she had a thing for her guitarist.(I did ask, as I am not going to cut out another woman, especially fronting a band with a great voice.)She told us to use her bedroom.It was just a small space with a curtain across an alcove that only had room for a bed, but I grabbed Jonny and pulled him in there and we had a great time.Shagging him was always amazing.It was the start of a fabulous week as his girl.

We snogged all the way back to the hotel and he took me back to his room where I spent the next three nights.The best was the night of the concert.We were up all night, drinking, smoking, laughing and fucking after the high of the music.During the day we slept in, then he rehearsed while I listened.We took a walk in Central Park one afternoon around a big fountain, just the two of us, and bought big pretzels from a street vendor's cart.We never talked about the future—Jonny was still married to Maimie—because nothing was real except our connection and the music.That’s all that mattered.

Of course our time in New York City came to an end.We got on the plane back home that weekend.I sat with Jonny in first class where we drank champagne and talked while he wrote lyrics.We fucked again in one of those tiny airplane bathrooms. Of course that all changed when we got back to Heathrow as Maimie was there, waiting for Jonny.He left me without a word to go with her.I was mad as fire.Not that I wanted to be with him forever, but no one walks away from Leda.I made a scene right there in the airport in front of the reporters.I told her (and them) in graphic detail how we’d spent the week.He was furious but serves him right. I went home with his drummer, Maimie threw him out and filed for divorce, and he stayed drunk for a week according to the papers.I didn’t realize I was pregnant right away and I wasn’t really sure who the father was —it could have been any of three guys— but the timing was right for it to be Jonny and turns out he was.I had Cormoran, his son, the following November.Best days of my life, that time with the bands at CBGB.The music was my life and always will be.

**Author's Note:**

> CBGB didn’t open until the end of 1973 if Wikipedia is correct, but I played around with the dates to fit my story.


End file.
